


only then i am clean / amen, amen, amen

by The_North_Star



Series: Ruthari Week 2020 (Round 2, Baby!) [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Bondage, Cock Sucking, Dom/sub Undertones, I am tired, I have never been on time for anything, I will tag appropriately later as the week goes on, M/M, and unfortunately Ruthari Week has not been enough to force me to get my shit together, because I am busy despite this damn pandemic, so hooty hoo fuckit just gonna write and update all prompts as I go, yes I started this shit late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25181716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_North_Star/pseuds/The_North_Star
Summary: Written for Ruthari Week 2020 (Round 2, baby!)7th - --->Free | Bound<--- (I am an IDIOT){In these bindings, he feels free.}because I looked at the prompts and thought I had to somehow use BOTH of them cleverly, instead of choosing one from the two prompts of each day. because I am stupid/ADHD makes me selectively smart. also, tonight has just been UGH so I'll make everything nice later. please enjoy this bondage fic in the meantime. it, um, gets interesting near the end. just....yeah.
Relationships: Ethari/Runaan (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Ruthari Week 2020 (Round 2, Baby!) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824304
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	only then i am clean / amen, amen, amen

In these bindings, he feels free.  
  
Which is the most laughable oxymoron in existence, maybe. Bindings by their very name and nature were meant to bind things, to secure, to restrict, to attach.  
  
But as Ethari floats into view, parting the beaded curtains around their canopy bed, he struggles against the silk keeping his wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts.  
  
In these bindings, Runaan feels free.The assassin, the protector of the Moonshadow elves, the stern guardian, is placed away, perhaps in the wooden chest near their bed.  
  
He can take in a way that doesn’t hurt. He can rest his mind for a little bit. He can simply feel. Simply be.  
  
In the amber gaze of the blacksmith above him, he is reduced to a willing toy. To silent pleading, for praying for mercy, like a blood sacrifice of old offered to the spirits.  
  
But this moon deity is perhaps the most benevolent amongst the powers that be, radiant and beautiful yet gentle and patient.No blood to be spilled despite being a crafter of weapons.  
  
“What do you want from me, luminous one?”  
  
From evening-dark lips comes a voice that is pulled from the most fertile of orchards and groves and peat-bogs.  
Ethari sounds as if he was born from the earth, but his looks come from the sky.Moon white hair with sun warm eyes. Obliviously humble and kindly despite looking ethereal and royal and graceful.  
  
Opposites coexisting peacefully within this one elf. Surely he is a demigod, at the very very least.  
  
He has the voice of the spirits, a voice both everything and nothing like his own voice, and it settles deep into his bones and sets his blood rushing.He is certain some of it rushes to his face, and he does not have to hide that from anyone.  
  
In these bindings, he feels free.  
  
“You, silver blade of the Moonshadow elves. I want you. I want your body, and your mind, and your heart. You are a fine offering to me, and it would be a shame for you to be taken like the sacrifices of old. No, no.”  
  
One hand, decorated with fine silver rings and lavender swirls, begin to trace down his naked chest, and he doesn’t bother to hide how he moans and molds to the touch of his beloved.  
  
“Simply surrender to me, especially your body, for the rest of your life. I will make it worthwhile.”  
  
“You already have. Do with me what you will.”  
  
Beneath the purple-to-green translucence of his favorite dancing veil, Ethari smiles and reaches both hands down. One wraps around his cock and begins to slowly stroke.  
  
“Yes, lovely. Lovely archer elf.Not as thick as myself, but don’t worry, I have just the things to work you open for me.”  
  
He can’t do anything besides writhe against his bonds and groan helplessly. A hand in his hair tugs his head upwards, and hot tears flow down his cheeks.  
  
There isn’t much, but his soon-to-be husband sees.  
  
“Runaan? Love? Oh, moon above, I’m sorry, did I---I pulled your hair too hard---!”  
  
“---Ethari, no. No, no, no. Shhh.”  
  
Ethari looks worried, his dark purple eyeliner making his eyes look twice as large.  
  
“Love, I’m so sorry---”  
  
“----it felt good.”  
  
He falls silent.  
  
“Yes, moonlight, your attention and your handling. I told you. I...wanted that. Being roughed up, being strung up, at your mercy. I wanted the freedom to...simply feel. I wanted the release. And it was, so far, exquisite.”  
  
Under any other circumstance he’d feel humiliation, but this is his truelove, and the loveliest elf alive, and he’s still hard from previous ministrations.  
  
“If you don’t want to go through with it, I understand. But I love you and I trust you. You and your hands and legs and your muscles and your might.”  
  
For a moment, Runaan thinks he might not go through it after all, but then Ethari shoves him back into the cushions of the bed, folding his legs back, and he feels both his mouth right around his cock and what feels like oil being poured around his entrance.  
When he feels two thick fingers begin to work him open, he screams with an unfamiliar but welcome delight.  
  
In these bindings, he feels free.  
  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Will put notes later, thank you for your patience. just wanted to whack this out for Ruthari Week. yeah.


End file.
